Random Acts by Alison Stone Read Free Book Online Page B

younger man stepped back, bent over and gulped in uneven breaths. Disgust washed over the Protector. “Oh, stop being a wimp. Stand up straight. Be a man.”
    The kid stood, narrowing his gaze a fraction. The Protector glared in return. “Are you defying me?”
    “No, sir.”
    “No one defies me.” He thumped the kid’s forehead with his index finger. “I run this place. You understand? And if you plan on sticking around, you better shape up.”
    “Yes, sir.” The kid squared his shoulders.
    That’s more like it.
    The kid cleared his throat. “Give me another chance. I know I can find it.”
    The Protector studied the younger man’s face. He had such high hopes for him. But maybe he wasn’t cut out for this after all. What a disappointment. “Another chance…” he hissed. “I don’t know if you deserve another chance.” He lifted his open hand and watched the object of his disgust flinch. He cupped the kid’s cheek and tapped it a few times gently. A deep chuckle escaped the Protector’s lips. He knew psychological warfare was just as crippling as physical. Maybe more so.
    “Please, please…I’ll get it next time.” A flash of determination sparked in the kid’s eyes. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
    Not one for reassurances, the Protector shrugged. “I’ll decide soon. But either way, if they find her phone, you’re the one going down.”

Chapter Five
    It was midafternoon before Patrick had the back door replaced with a more secure one without a window. For good measure, he also had the deadbolts replaced on both the front and back doors. Satisfied, he offered to drive Danielle to the hospital. After last night’s excitement, Gram claimed she was too tired to leave the house, content to sit and visit with a friend from the church who had stopped by. Patrick suspected Jenny’s condition had taken a toll on the elderly woman.
    Once at the hospital, Patrick hung back as Danielle walked into Jenny’s room. She went immediately to the head of the bed and smoothed her hand across her sister’s hair. The silence grew heavy between them. He searched for comforting words but settled on something else entirely. “How’s your foot?”
    Half of her mouth tipped in a small grin. “Fine. I was a bit of a drama queen. Show me blood and it’s all over.”
    Patrick lifted a shoulder and smiled. “Understandable.” He didn’t want to admit he liked taking care of her, even if it involved a small cut, a Band-Aid and some gauze.
    Danielle sighed softly, her expression growing sober. “I just don’t know what to do. This feeling of helplessness is killing me.” Her shoulders sagged. “There’s absolutely nothing I can do for my sister.”
    “There’s one thing…” He let the words trail off.
    She narrowed her gaze at him. “What?” Frustration laced her tone. “And don’t tell me prayer or I’ll hit you.”
    Patrick lifted his hands as if to protect himself and smiled. He was rewarded with a slight curve of her pink lips before they flattened into a straight line.
    “No,” Danielle said before he could plead his case. “I can’t pray. I’d feel like a hypocrite. I haven’t prayed in years, not really. Not since Gram used to drag us to church. How can I pray now when I need something? When I ignored God all along.”
    “God understands.” His heart went out to her. How could anyone survive tragedy without faith? His faith had delivered him from the darkest days and months after his wife had died.
    She shook her head and red splotches fired on her cheeks. “How can you pray?” she asked accusingly. “God took your wife. The mother of your child.” She nearly spat out the words as her eyes grew hard.
    Patrick blinked back his shock. Her words felt like knives turning in his heart. He crossed to the window, planted his hands on the sill and stared up at the gossamer clouds floating across the brilliant-blue sky.
    “I’m sorry.” Her voice was heavy with regret. “I didn’t